Page 16

Studio

I have long since looked at mirrors
that reflect all too well a portrait
I had hoped to soon forget.

there's paintings on all four walls
in this room where I now sit
scraping carpet with bare knees
cold toes
and weary soul

my eyes scan along like radar
in search of something bigger than myself
and this spot
you couldn't even find on a map

I soak up knowledge like a sponge
and hold it all together
compressed
heavy
desired to be squeezed out and shared

But I'm thinking
almost hopelessly,
that no one will want to clean up the mess
I've left behind